America On Too Much Coffee?
by LoveGaara06
Summary: America had a little to much work to get done, but did drinking so much coffee really help? No Yaoi


** Human names used in speech.  
**

* * *

England sat alone, drinking his freshly prepared tea in his living room while reading that days news paper. His day had been quite uneventful, only a few of his human neighbors coming to visit him every once in a while, with the occasional phone call from his boss, or other personified countries. That morning America had called, saying he needed some time away from his multiple homes (he had one in every major American city) to concentrate, trying to get England to approve of letting him come over. Which in the end, happened.

So by 3:30 in the afternoon, a knock came to England's door. America had seriously taken a six hour flight almost right after he hung up the phone. What was he thinking? He had to be dead tired by now, even if he _had_ slept on the plane ride.

England set down his newspaper and tea, then got up to answer the door.

"Alfred?" He asked, opening the door.

The teenager at the door look so very tired, his eyes had dark bags under them that could even be seen easily with his glasses over his eyes. He carried a medium size luggage bag with him and a small backpack that looked like it carried a few heavy books, or just way to many papers. As England let him in, the young American shuffled his feet through the door, dropping his luggage right next to it, not even bothering to take off his shoes, and face planted onto England's couch.

"You bloody git!" England yelled as he stomped into his own living room, looking at the mud tracks America had left, "Take off you shoes before you walk anywhere! And pick your bloody luggage up! What the bloody hell is your problem? I know you have jet lag but pick up your shit!"

"There's to much work, Iggy…" America said, the sound muffled by the cushions.

"So," England replied, eyebrow raised in annoyance, "you decided to take a six hour flight to come here instead of work?"

"Yeah, but I plan on working more here…"

"How much do you have to do?"

America held up the backpack that had landed on the floor beside him when he feel onto the couch. Taking it from him, England looked inside it, which contained probably more than a hundred papers.

"You have to finish all of this?" England yelled, very surprised America had procrastinated that much.

"Yeah." America said, sitting back up, rubbing his eyes, his glasses on his forehead.

"Well, I'm not doing any of it for you, you twit!"

"I didn't think you would…" America then fell back down onto the couch, regardless of what anyone thought.

"You need to finish this, Alfred." England said, now staring down at the boy who laid on his couch.

"I'm to tired! I stayed up really late last night!"

"Why were you up so late?"

"My boss is giving me to much work, so I can't sleep and he's stressing me out…"

"Why don't you drink some caffeine? You need to get this work done."

"I already cleaned out my fridge of all the cokes… It didn't help…"

"That's because your immune to them, since you drink them all the time, you git! How about coffee?"

"Coffee?"

"Yes."

"It never helps…"

"That's because you only drink one!"

"But you told me its not good to drink more than two a day."

"Well, at a time like this is when you can drink as many as you please."

"Will you go get me some?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I thought you hated my cooking."

"Right… don't really want _you_ making anything for _anyone_…"

With that America got up from the couch, rubbed his eyes and moved his way to the kitchen. A few minutes later, when England went back to reading his newspaper and drinking his tea, America came back with a huge cup of coffee. He sat back down on the couch and sipped it slowly, staring into the abyss of brown liquid.

"I don't think its helping…" America said as he finished the second cup.

"Then drink more, twit." England replied, not paying any attention to what America was talking about. "You will only wake up, rather then fall asleep."

_**21.5 cups latter…**_

America was rapidly writing things down on multiple pieces of paper, 2 big books(probably giving to him by his boss) open in front of him, and a few other pieces of paper in his mouth.

"You awake enough to work now?" England asked, glancing over at America, who jerked his head up and grunted a muffled "yeah".

"Done! I'm done!" America shouted, jumping up off his seat and sending papers flying everywhere. "Iggy! Iggy! That was awesome!" Now America was looking back and forth at things in a very hyperactive way, "That's probably the fastest I've ever finished anything!" He slammed the books shut and threw them on the floor, "You know what we should do?" America spun around and starred at England, "We should totally celebrate! I think we should get some gummy bears! No! No!" Just then America jolted forward and slammed his hands down on the arm rests of England's chair, "Oreo's! Oreo's Iggy! We should totally get Oreo's!" He backed up again and spun around, then put his hands on his waist, "No. We should get more coffee." He spun around yet again, and snapped his fingers at England as he talked. "Now _that's_ what we should do!"

By this time England had his back held tightly against the back of his chair. America was freaking him out. _Freaking_ him out. Not just getting him annoyed, but freaking him out!

"We should get ourselves more coffee!" America continue, placing his hands in front of England, showing him he was talking about him, "You should have some coffee! Coffee is great! Isn't it Tony?" At the moment America turned and looked at his luggage, which now had the small gray alien standing next to it.

"How the bloody hell did he get there?" England screamed, suddenly very confused as to how America brought "that thing" along, _and_ how it hid from him this whole time!

"We should get more coffee!" America yelled, now grinning so big that England was afraid his mouth might break.

"A-Alfred," England managed to say, voice shaking from surprise of the actions of the hyped up nation, "I think you need to stop drinking coffee. Drink some tea, that might calm you dow-"

"No!" America shouted, cutting the British man off. He shoved his hand into England's face an pointed his finger at him, his hand shaking, "I know exactly what your doing! I know how your diabolical, little mind works!" America backed up and starred at England.

"Alfred, you need to-"

Suddenly America threw his arms up in the air and screamed "We should go swimming!"

"Wha?"

"Iggy! We should go swimming! Naked!"

"NO!"

"Swimming. Naked."

"No!"

"With gummy bears! Oh my god!" America spun around and slammed his hands down on the Brit's shoulders, "Iggy!" He then jumped back and quickly removed his dark brown bomber jacket, "Lets-Lets go swimming!" America began running to the front door.

"No, you bloody git!" England shouted back, now getting up out of his seat, running and grabbing hold of America's wrist.

"Lets go swimming!" the American continued to yell, England shouting his name in the background trying to get his attention, "Com' on! Lets go swimming!" America quickly removed himself from England's grasp on his wrist.

"No!" The Brit screamed, intently watching the hyper American sweep around and take hold of his shoulders again.

"Yeah! Lets go!" America then let go of England's shoulders and ran for the door, "Come on!" He began laughing hysterically, England watching him run out from behind, one eye squinted and his mouth open in disgust, "Swimming, Iggy!"

Once America had ran out the door, England looked around curiously, the same disgusted look on his face.

"What the bloody hell just happened?"

"I'm back!" A young American voice yelled as the front door flew open. England looked up from his seat, quickly turning away and covering his eyes with his hands.

"Oh. No!"

"What?" America's voice said innocently.

"No! Go away!" England yelled.

"What?"

"Your not entering my house until you put some clothes on, you bloody git!"

"Oh?" America's voice began to quiver, "You know what? Fine! I will go put clothes on! If its that big of a deal, Iggy!"

"Yes. Do just that!"

"Fine!"

England could hear him going through his luggage, and then eventually foot steps that most likely found their way to the bathroom.

When America came back(now wearing clothes again), England forced him to sit in one of the kitchen chairs. There he stood in front of the hyper teenager, and crossed his arms, tapping his foot.

"Breathe in."

"Okay!" America followed the order, but then began breathing out quite quickly.

"No! In! And hold it!"

The American took a few gulps of air and held his breath.

"Hold it."

The order was almost impossible, because America began laughing, causing him to breath again, fast enough to where he might have hyperventilated.

"Your horrible at this, twat!"

"I can't stop thinking!" America looked down at his shaking hands then started using really fast hand gestures, "Its like my thoughts are going faster than I can actually keep up with!"

"Isn't that how fast your mind _normally_ goes?" England mumbled.

"Iggy! This is awesome!" America jumped out of his seat and started running around England's kitchen. Once America got close to England, without reducing his speed in the least, he ran right into him and glomped him, squeezing him half to death at his waist.

"Alfred! Let go of me, you git!" England yelled, trying to pry America's arms from his waist.

"You're my best friend." America said.

"What?" England replied, looking down at him.

"Do you know that?" America began hugging England even tighter, "Do you know what a good big brother you've been to me all these years? I've never appreciated what a good big brother you are!"

"Alfred, do you know what your saying?" England gave up on trying to get the younger nation off of him and stood still staring at the wall, very annoyed.

"I'm always so horrible to you! Its 'cause I love you!"

"What?"

"Like a brother! Of course!"

"I don't think you know what your saying, Alfred…"

At that moment America gasped and let go of England's waist, throwing his arms up in the air.

"What?" England asked.

America clasped his hands over England's mouth. "Listen! Listen! Iggy, Listen!" America yelled as England's words were muffled by America's hand. "Shh! Shh! Listen!"

"Wahhmt?(what)" England ask with a completely blank expression, fully annoyed now and only replying as for hope this crazy day would end soon.

"What's that?" America said, now whispering close to England's ear, "Can you hear it?"

"No…"

"Can you hear it… In the _ceiling_!" America jerked both their heads up to look at the snow white ceiling above them.

England tore America's hands from his mouth and spun around, "No!"

"Shh! They might be able to see us!"

"What the blood hell are you going on about?"

"Shhh!" America led his voice back down to a whisper, "It's an alie~n!"

England turned his head and glared at America, "An Alien?"

"The aliens coming to invade the ear-" Just then England slapped the back of America's head with his hand.

"Ow!" America shouted, quickly turning his head to look at England, "No! Iggy! This is a serious-"

England hit his forehead this time.

"A threat to man kind!" By this time England was trying to get a good grip on America's arms to calm him down, "No! Iggy! The Aliens!"

"No! Your being a bloody prat!" England yelled as he ended up pining America up against the wall, very unsuccessfully since America easily struggled his way out and ran back to the living room.

As England regained himself he heard foot steps on the stairs, then on the roof.

"What the blood hell is he doing on the roof?" England screamed as he ran up the stairs then to the door to the roof which was at the end of the hallway. He quickly pulled it open and shouted out "Alfred! Alfred! Get your bloody arse off the roof!"

_*Singing in the rhythm of Tick-Tock by Ke$ha* _"Im out on the roof, DJ blow my speakers up! Oh-whoa! 'Imma dance till I see the sudden light!" America was dancing around the roof, singing. Then he stopped and threw his arms up in the air and screamed at the top of his lungs "Beam me up, Scotty!"

"Alfred!" England screamed as loud as he could, "Get. Your. Bloody. Arse. _Off_. The. _ROOF_!"

America came running back to the door, grinning wildly.

"I'm back!" He then ran down the hall way to the stairs.

For some reason, the small, gray alien was standing at the edge of the stair case.

"Tony!" America yelled, glomping the poor thing. "Hi, Tony!" he then ran off down the stairs carrying the Alien in his arms, which seemed very confused and a little worried. England closed the door to the roof and let himself down the stairs to find America in the living room. He turned around to make sure nothing was left on the stairs then suddenly something hit him in the back. Turning around he saw America standing in the middle of the room grinning, and Tony at his feet. America had thrown Tony at him!

"Did you just throw Tony at me?" England asked, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Wasn't me!" America said, snickering a little, "Tony attacked you!"

"I _can _believe that…" England mumbled under his breath, "Though this time I'm sure you threw him." He then bent down and held Tony by his small alien hand, causing America to come running to rescue his little alien friend.

"No!" America cried, "No! No! No!"

"Hold _it_!" England said as he shoved Tony in America's face. "Very. Still."

"Uh-huh."

England then pulled out a random cricket bat from somewhere by his stairs, and whacked Tony with it a few times. Hard. This made America scream every time Tony was hit, and the poor alien made a few really weird alien screams.

"Ahh!" America screamed, almost crying, grabbing England by the collar of his shirt, "Your so horrible, Iggy! And he did nothing to you! He doesn't deserve this!" He then got a more serious look on his face, changing the ton in his voice too. "I'm gonna sue your ass in court!" America spun around and laughed hysterically as he ran off into the living room once more.

Watching him run off, England stood, as confused as ever, eyebrow raised yet again.

"What the bloody hell just happened?"

As he watch America count how many cheep tea bags he had, England sat in his chair, looking concernedly upon the still hyper teenage American that sat on the floor with tea bags spread out all around him.

"Are you done counting my tea bags yet?" England asked, partly watching the nineteen year old and partly paying attention to how to get America to calm down.

"No! I'm trying to put them in alphabetical order!" America said, smiling.

"Their all the same kind!" England yelled, more concerned now for the imploding mind of this strange… country…

England got up out of his chair and began walking to his kitchen, when suddenly he lunged forward and face planted on the ground.

"Iggy!" America screamed in his ear. He had obviously been the one that shoved him to the floor, which he _really_ hated.

"What the bloody hell, twit?" England yelled, attempting to flip himself over onto his back, and trying to push America off at the same time.

"Iggy! We need to hang more!"

"Damn it! What the bloody hell does that have to do with tackling me to the floor? Get your fat arse off of me!"

Finally England succeeded in kicking him off, causing America to land on the floor in front of England. The Brit quickly got up off the ground, wiping off his clothes, and glaring down at America.

"Something is wrong with you, Alfred. What the bloody hell _is_ your problem?"

America sat right next to England on the couch, jumping up and down in his seat. He was _way_ to giddy for his own good right now. Seeing it as the only way to clam the kid down, England forced him to sit until he calmed down, meaning he had to sit there as well or America would probably run off again.

"Iggy!" America shouted in a whisper, grabbing hold of England's arm.

"Yes?" He responded, turning his head to look at the American.

A face landed in England's lap only a few seconds later, causing him to jump a little in surprise. He wasn't expecting America to wipe out so suddenly.

"Did he _finally_ crash?" England asked to himself, staring down at his once younger brother.

America laid on the couch, his hands covering his head and standing beside him was England, attempting to revive the poor kid.

"Ow, my head…" America whined.

"You okay now?" England asked.

"No…"

"But you finished you work, right?" England replied, hoping that they could get back to what America _really _came to his house for.

"I think so…"

England walked around to the edge of the couch, picking up all the pieces of papers America had dropped earlier, looking to see what he had really gotten done. What _did _he get done_? None _of these papers had anything but a few random scribbles of weird looking text here and there and a few doodles.

"Alfred, what work _did _you finish?" England asked, now looking up at the nation that was almost sleeping on his couch.

"Huh?" America sat up, rubbing his eyes as he started looking at the papers England was handing him.

"All these only have doodles on them."

"But I… I know I finished!"

"These are just doodle, Alfred…" England jerked his head up, "Oh, Alfred? Do you remember that paper airplane you threw off the roof? Into the river? Wasn't that a bill you had to look over?"

"What?" America's eyes got wide. He didn't really just throw a rough copy of a bill into a river did he? He had to read that! "No…" He started to get up of the couch, and soon he was running out the door screaming "No! No! No! No! No!" on his way.

The door slammed again, and this time, America walked in.

"You found it?" England asked, back to drinking his tea again. America walked in closer carrying a sopping wet piece of paper. "Oh…" England said when he saw what it was.

The ink on the paper was running everywhere. America plopped himself down onto the couch, dripping water on everything and tearing up a bit.

"Hey, your getting water on my couch! And carpet!" England walked over to him and took a hold of the piece of paper, that ripped with the slightest tugged he gave to it.

"No!" America screamed, the paper ripping farther, "No! No! Just! No!" He took full hold of the paper, "Just give it here!" America stared at the decaying paper watching it slowly melt away. "I was supposed to have read that… by… tomorrow…"

"Well the only thing you can do is finish the rest of your work."

"My boss is gonna be pissed off, man…"

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**What an amazing way to end this fic. Not really. Anyways this was a parody off of the Sora Show 3. ( youtube .com/watch?v=yp7sxYQMhag ) I got the idea when I was drinking Starbucks the other day and I thought having Alfred get hyper on to much coffee would be really amusing. Then my friend thought about this and doing it with America. So, here it is! Reveiws on how to help my writing would be greatly appreciated. :)**


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